


Wildcat

by elsadarmody



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Codependency, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Just two broken people, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redemptive love, Sleepy Cuddles, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma bond, Underage Drinking, star crossed, two sides of the same coin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 09:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsadarmody/pseuds/elsadarmody
Summary: Begins at the close of 1.12 (A Return To Normalcy) wherein Jimmy discovers he's not alone on the beach that night. Continues through the remainder of season 2 as a series of vignettes.





	1. 1

He'd been wandering the shoreline aimlessly for what seemed an eternity, his head pounding, completely overwhelmed. Shitty fucking day turned into an even shittier fucking night but it was almost dawn; almost over. His shoulders tense, his ungloved hands like ice in the crisp November air but he was more than a little drunk; only aware of the plummeting mercury by the throbbing in his leg which—he reasoned—could also be due to all the walking. He couldn't remember where he parked (was really in no condition for driving anyway) but started towards the road nevertheless. Having taken his mother's keys on his way out of the mansion he could always walk to Gillian's if he really needed to. Except…he was exhausted. He knew deep down he couldn't make it the whole way. Eyeing the nearby dunes he resolved to stop and sit. Just for a while; like when he was a kid. But his body had grown accustomed to sleeping wherever it could, the soft sand more pleasing to it than any muddy trench. And he stretched out, gazing up at what remained of the stars until his eyes finally closed.

"Oh!"

Jimmy squinted. He couldn't remember where the fuck he was, one hand grasping the earth below him while the other pushed a mass of hair out of his face; its owner atop him, panting heavily, her breath warm against his cheek. And just when he'd convinced himself that it had all just been another nightmare-that she hadn't cut her hair, she did love him—one hard press on his sternum and she pounced off.

"Sorry!" she called over her shoulder, clamoring over the dune, jet black ringlets swaying behind her and she was gone.

He bolted upright. The fuck was that? A quick glance down, the fingers of his right hand pressed against his forehead, he winced at the sour taste in his mouth. Whoever she was, she was real; evidenced by more than the impressions she left in the sand. He felt a warm wetness on his face and smoothed his hand downward to his cheek. Blood. After checking to make sure it wasn't his, he shook off the excess sand and went in search of her.

Judging by her footprints she took off in a hard run towards the sea before breaking right towards the nearest pier. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the bottom of her nightgown blowing in the sea breeze.

  
And there she was; sitting in the wet sand next to a piling, curled into a tight ball with her head in her knees, all that hair draping over her thin scratched arms. She was barefoot and pale, her left sleeve torn- all the telltale signs of a struggle. Upon hearing his encroaching footsteps she looked up, a scowl quickly replacing her initial look of shock. Her lower lip was split, her eyes red from crying but she narrowed them just the same.

"Ugh, it's just you," she hissed. "Look, I already said I was sorry okay? Now Leave. Me. Alone."

She was young. He pegged her for about fifteen maybe sixteen tops. And traumatized. Her tracks were so easily traceable he figured it was better he found her himself, whoever she was running from could very well be close behind. He'd had enough of Eli for one night. And Holloran-that poor fat fuck—after the stunt Nucky pulled earlier Jimmy was sure he wouldn't be able to look him in the eye for at least a month.

"Listen, kid—"

"—Kid? You're one to talk, ain'tcha? That your daddy's suit?"

Jimmy shook his head at the slight, seriously considering walking away and giving her what she wanted. He had enough on his plate already. Still mulling it over he reached mechanically for the flask in his inner pocket, easily convincing himself that if he had just a little more he wouldn't feel so hung over.

"I'll take some of that."

She wasn't nearly old enough, but that hadn't stopped him at her age plus she looked like she could use it so he silently obliged. She rose and grabbed it eagerly, knocking it back like a pro; the contortion of her face thereafter confirming otherwise.

"You got a name?"

She took another swig, the sting of the alcohol against her cut bringing fresh tears to her eyes and she jerked her chin down in hopes he wouldn't see.

"Doesn't everyone?"

He shrugged as if in agreement, glancing again at her sleeve while Pearl's voice echoed in his head, ‘Pa was the first townsman to go to prison…’ It didn't sit well with him. Not at all. Jimmy cleared his throat, ultimately deciding that he had to ask so he'd know who he was up against although a pubescent lover's quarrel was the preference given his own state. He nodded at her shoulder, fully prepared for her to claw his eyes out-there are just some things you can't tell anyone.

"Your Pa do that?"

"What's it to you, huh?" She huffed, squishing her muddy toes in the sand. "Besides…you wouldn't understand. No one would." With that she crossed her arms against herself, turning her body away from him.

"Try me," Jimmy reached out encouragingly and she swatted at him but missed. The fear in her indigo eyes told him she was reacting on instinct. He held up his hands in mock surrender and bid her adieu. Two steps later she reconsidered.

"He's not my father," she quipped. "Daddy was a hero. Lost him in the War."

"Lost a lot of good fellas Over There."

"I. Wasn't. _Finished_ ," she glared.

"Sorry."

"Grew up in Philly,” she said. “Ma and me, we were down here for the summer with my Aunt Evelyn—Daddy's older sister. Married a doctor…lives out on the Main Line. So, anyways, we're stayin' at this real nice hotel, the Traymore, when we get the telegram from the War Department. And Ma," she paused, shaking her head, "she just completely lost it. Didn't get out of bed except maybe to use the water closet for over a week."

"My condolences."

"Yeah, yeah. Like you really care.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think I came all the way out here, in the middle of the night, _for you_? I don't need you, I don't need anyone!"

It was all an act, of course. She wasn't a wildcat at all, just a scared little girl. Calling her bluff would only add insult to injury. Then he remembered how Angela told him how she lured that stray by leaving a saucer of milk out on the fire escape. They were standing close enough that he could see the goose bumps on her arms. She was shivering slightly too, though he was pretty sure she was unaware of it so he took his coat off and placed it over her shoulders.

She looked at him sheepishly, huddling up under it. Jimmy shrugged as if it were nothing, fishing around the pocket of his trousers for his cigarettes.

"It was just me and my mother when I was a kid too."

"Really?"

He nodded, taking a drag.

"I lost both my parents that summer,” she sighed. “My Ma, she never recovered. Stopped coming to the beach with us pretty soon after that. Met some wop on the boardwalk, spent all her time with him. Everything was 'Tony this' and 'Tony that'. Then, just before Labor Day, they go and get hitched down at City Hall! And it was good-bye Overbrook, hello Bungalow Park." She shook her head, snarled curls waving in the breeze. "See, he thought Ma was his ticket to Easy Street…didn't know we were in town on my uncle's dollar. Boy oh boy was he pissed when he found out."

"And he took it out on you?"

"Nah, not at first. He just tossed a bunch of stuff around the house rantin' and raving. That was three years ago. It didn't really start until…well, recently."

Jimmy clenched his jaw and looked out at the horizon. He'd never understood how a man could raise his hands to a woman. No matter how pissed he was at Angela (and he was more heartbroken than anything), he'd never strike her. Not on purpose, not while he was awake. But his companion was still merely a child, making it all the more worse as far as he was concerned.

"It's 'cause I'm a late bloomer," she added, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

And she smiled sardonically.

"I was ready for him tonight. Hid a brick in my satchel on my way home from school, tucked it under my pillow for when he came in. Half-past three…right on schedule. Pretended to be asleep when he locked the door. And he's leaning over the bed and all I can smell is the booze and garlic on his breath. And that's when I clocked him as hard as I could. Bastard hit the floor like a rock. Me, I got the hell outta there before he could come to."

He felt sick to his stomach. Of all things he wasn't prepared for that though he certainly should have been. But something was off.

"Your Ma safe? Where's she?"

She cackled.

"Who do you think gave me this fat lip, huh? She knew about it the whole time, even told me so. 'Be a good girl.' See, he hadn't touched her in God knows how long. In her eyes it all fell to me to keep a roof over our heads."

With that her voice trembled and she swallowed hard. Jimmy put his hand on her shoulder, patting her gently. And she threw herself against him, clinging and openly weeping.

"I can't go back there. I can't, I can't…"

"You don't have to."

She sniffled and looked up at him in relief. Attempting to smile she re-opened her laceration.

"Kelly. Kelly Flannigan,” she shrugged, tracing her big toe in the sand. “Told ya everything else, might as well know my name too."

"James Darmody."

"Nice to meetcha."

The sun was nearly up and the shops on the boards would be opening for breakfast soon. She looked exhausted and he felt like hell and they stood under the pier in silence. Kelly yawned as the sky turned pink and he knew he should get her out of the cold.

"Come on," he nodded in the direction of the street, "We'll get that lip cleaned up, something warm in your belly."

She followed a few steps behind as they walked to the car, Gillian's flat just a short drive away. And he sat her down at the kitchenette while he checked the medicine cabinet for cotton balls and peroxide. But it wasn't she who flinched as he dabbed at her open wound, Pearl's screams ever haunting him.

Jimmy made her some warm milk after that and she lapped it right up, cupping her tiny hands around the mug like she couldn't get enough. He offered her his old room but found her asleep on the sofa as he was changing the sheets. He covered her with a blanket, tucking it under her chin and opted for his own bed, however strange it might feel after so many years. He awoke sometime after noon to find her thumbing through one of his mother's magazines.

"You hungry?"

She looked up, nodding eagerly.

With Gillian spending so much time at the Commodore's she didn't really have much on hand. But toast and jam were sufficient for both. And coffee, plenty of coffee.

"You ever hear from that aunt of yours?"

"Yep," she replied between nibbles. "She sends me a Christmas dress every year. John Wannamaker's, Litt Brother’s- they're always so pretty! 'Course I never get to wear 'em. Can't be 'putting on airs'. He always passed them along to his boss's daughter."

"Would you like to call her?"

"You mean like on the telephone?"

So Jimmy showed her how to use it and gave her some privacy so the two could catch up. But he peeked out from the kitchen, watching as her face lit up—she had a lovely smile. And soon it was all settled, Kelly was to take the five o'clock Boardwalk Flyer to Philadelphia that evening. Jimmy gave her one of Gillian's more conservative dresses, as well as a coat and gloves which he could easily replace now no thanks to his father.

When she stepped out of the bedroom, Kelly looked almost five years older; face powdered, hair pinned back, a tad of lip rouge. And Jimmy wondered how it could've been different if she was older, if only by three years or so. How maybe he'd be boarding that train with her, not to Philadelphia but to anywhere.

"Now remember," he lectured as they stood on the platform, "There's gonna be a couple of stops when you first get into the city. Yours is 30th Street. The conductor should announce it, so keep your ears open."

"Got it," she smiled meekly. "Bye."

"Good-bye, kid. Good luck."

Jimmy stood with his hands in his pockets as the whistle blew behind her. She gave him a friendly wave, taking a few strides before turning around; taking him by surprise as she threw her arms around him.

"Thank you," she purred in his ear, hugging him as tightly as her little arms would allow and giving him a peck on the cheek. "I'll never forget you."

Several weeks later, Margaret Schroeder was reading the morning paper in bed when one of the headlines in particular caught her eye.

**Couple Slain in Bungalow Park in what appears to be botched robbery. Sheriff's office has no leads**

She looked solemnly at the empty side of her bed. He wasn't perfect, she knew but nor was she. But last night there was a warm fire in her suite as well as in the children's. And she assured herself it was but a small price to pay to be out of that neighborhood.

Meanwhile, across town a copy of the same paper was being used to wrap dishes for the Darmody's upcoming move. Jimmy gave the story a once over before crumpling it around a teacup, thinking of her more than he should have. He kept turning it over in his mind, which was worse…the stepfather who'd had his way with her or the mother who not only condoned but encouraged it; leading the lamb to the slaughter. In the end he decided the latter was the greater evil, and dined with his own father that very evening.


	2. 2

His adrenaline pulsing, Jimmy stormed down the hall. With cold, hollow eyes he returned to the party room; a machine cautious not to engage in anyone’s particular gaze. He sank into his chair, tossing back a shot to calm his frayed nerves. _Hipocrites_ he snorted under his breath, aware that he was currently viewed more as a circus animal than the royalty he was a mere fifteen minutes earlier.

Eli had to push it. Couldn’t let him enjoy himself even a little after all his hard work. Fuck him. Fuck Mickey and that kike butcher too. Another shot; another puff on his cigarette and Jimmy still felt a crushing tension in his chest. He ran his fingers along the velveteen arm of his seat, stiffing a gulp and forcing himself to keep his head level- confident. It was no use. Mickey’s injuries aside, the party-his party-was still in full swing. He had to play his part.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and was relieved upon looking behind him that it was Babette herself. Doyle was on his way to the hospital. Did he need anything?

Jimmy thanked her. In a quiet voice he offered to cover any property damage he’d caused but she just shook her head.

It was becoming too much- he felt himself sweating, his heart pounding. He couldn’t keep it up much longer, wanting nothing more at the moment than to go home to his wife. But he was trapped. Trapped in this, this… _thing_ …this role he wasn’t even sure he’d ever really wanted in the first place.

The walls were closing in on him. Afraid he’d give himself away, Jimmy glanced from Babette to the rest of the room, faces swirling as the band seemed to be playing louder and louder. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get out of there. Now.

Babette knelt down to his level. “You sure you’re okay, kid?”

Jimmy pouted. Always the disappointment, he never felt more like a child. But he wouldn’t admit defeat. Not out loud- no way in hell.

“This place,” she continued, standing now as she shook out the match of her own cigarette. “There are times every so often I like to escape to my office. Lock the door, shut out the world. Look out at the ocean.”

With that Jimmy felt himself exhale. Found himself nodding along as she slid a key into the corner pocket of his jacket.

“Yours to keep, your Highness,” she smirked. “One of the perks.”

Jimmy finally opened his mouth but she’d already moved on; catering to the skirts accompanying Paddy Ryan.

He surveyed the room for Richard to no avail. Grateful for the armrests, he pushed himself up and out of his seat lurching back behind the gauche curtains toward the service elevator. A few more steps, he was so close. Free…if only for a little while.

His pace quickened. Sturdy now; resolute. Hell, his leg didn’t even bother him. He rounded the corner cautiously, the last thing he needed was to collide with a waiter. Ange would be proud of him for that _…if_ she knew where he was that is. If she cared whispered the voice in his head. His mother’s, of course, always his mother’s. At that he stopped short- another feeble attempt at evading her- yet not in vein, his path being blocked by silhouetted lovers.

Young flapper, stoutly buffoon. From what he could tell he had her pinned against the elevator door frame. Champagne in one gloved hand, she stroked his chest with the pointer finger of her other. Meanwhile, he was whispering what Jimmy could only imagine to be filth into her ear.

At this point the club itself was a steam bath. She baked all day in the merciless June sun while the swirl of too many bodies on the dance floor below ignited her from within. Smoke, heat, and the stench of sweat wafted their way up. Hardly noticeable from the VIP tables, they lay stagnant amid the dusty drapes rendering ventilation as practically nonexistent. By now the drumming in Jimmy’s temples rivaled that of the band itself. He swallowed hard- that trapped feeling returning tenfold. His chest tight, he couldn’t breathe, body letting out an involuntary cough.

Realizing they were no longer alone, the girl threw her head back laughing, pushing the big oaf slightly away. But _he_ was not so amused darting a glare in Jimmy’s direction.

“Neary?”

His comrade shrugged nonchalantly, grimace quickly replaced by a smug smirk. Jimmy wasn’t surprised. He’d nail anything. At least _someone_ was enjoying the party. He forced himself to smile back. One more role to play and then he’d be alone- finally.

“Don’t mind me,” he assured them, forcing a smile of his own. “Just gettin’ some air.”

He started again for the elevator. The pair separating momentarily, Jimmy finally got a good look at the girl and stopped dead in his tracks. He’d only seen eyes that shade of blue once. She clearly recognized him too, sucking on her lower lip as she awkwardly looked down.

“Something I should know?” Near snorted, having picked up on the tension.

“That girl’s underage.”

“You grow a conscience all-of-a-sudden?”

 _Fuck him_. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Still, Jimmy couldn’t let it go on. Wouldn’t be able to remotely relax upstairs; shut his eyes only to be haunted by hers. He squared his jaw, arching his brows at his subordinate.

“Oh, I get it,” Neary chuckled. “You want her for yourself.” He eyed her up and down, harshly grabbing her elbow, practically dragging her toward Jimmy. “Can’t blame ya for that.”

She glared from one to the other, tripping slightly as Neary pushed her away.

“Plenty more where you came from, doll,” he sneered meanwhile giving Jimmy a pat on the shoulder. “She’s all yours.”

With Neary gone, Jimmy finally had a chance to get a closer look at her. Despite what he knew to be true, she certainly didn’t look like a teenager. Having the benefit of a regular diet agreed with her, curves filling out places they hadn’t only months before. Like so many others, she’d cut her hair short- about Angela’s length but with thick cut bags trimming her face and adorned by an ornate rhinestone headband. Eyes lined heavily on both lids, crimson lips to match the shade of her dress- red and scant, glimmering black and silver beading all along the bodice, polished off by black opera length gloves.

The doors no sooner closed on the elevator and she downed what was left of her champagne- the poison assisting her in finding the courage to speak.

“Why’d ya have to do that, huh?” She hissed, giving him a shove to the chest.

“Calm down, Kel. I was only trying to help you.”

“Help me!? We were just flirting. I–”

“–Kelly, he’s old enough to be your father!”

“But he’s not. And neither are you. So stop lecturing me already!”

The elevator lurched its way up, and whether it was the motion or the alcohol, Jimmy could only watch as her face turned a putrid shade of green. While he couldn’t delay the inevitable, he hoped they’d at least make it out beforehand.

“Look atcha,” he smiled gently in an effort to distract her. “Got yourself all worked up. That any way to greet an old friend?”

She huffed, crossing her arms against herself and avoiding his eyes.

After what seemed an eternity the doors finally opened; Kelly rushing forth, flinging a hand over her mouth. Fortunately for her, Babette’s coffee table featured a large bowl as its centerpiece. It would have to do for now, she was already heaving a second time.

Hearing him approach she looked up helplessly, wiping her mouth with her glove as a tear rolled down her cheek.

He sat himself on the edge of the chaise lounge anchoring the table, rubbing her back. “It’ll pass soon.”

She took a few deep breaths, attempting to push herself upright but her arms refused to do their part.

“It’s spinning,” she slurred, peering over her shoulder at him. “Jimmy, I’m scared.”

But before he could answer she threw up again. Disheveled, her headband slipped forward off of her head, taking what Jimmy was grateful to learn was a wig with it.

He surveyed the room for the sink. Using his good leg to get himself up he hobbled over to get her some water.

Mortified, she slumped against the chaise, pulling off her cap and shaking out her dark ringlets.

“Sorry I overreacted,” she said in a small voice.

Plenty of times he’d drank too much himself. Too many, tonight being one of them.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, handing her the water before carefully lowering himself down next to her on the floor.

She took a few sips, placed the cup on the table and leaned into him, her petite frame fitting perfectly in the nook between his right arm and torso. He shifted to give her allowance, gently separating some of her curls with his free hand. His touch feather-light, he swept them away from her face, cradling her ever closer.

“I wondered if I might see you here,” she admitted. “Didn’t know it was a party _for_ you.”

He’d wondered about her too, when Christmas rolled around and he found himself wishing she’d finally gotten to wear her special dress. And then came Memorial Day, her father’s name not being on his particular list but was nonetheless being recited elsewhere– Fairmount Park perhaps- and he hoped she wasn’t alone when she heard it. He tried to convince himself it didn’t matter, that they were on different paths. He’d done his part- she wasn’t his concern. Yet here she was, in the flesh, and what he wondered most was how she’d gotten there in the first place.

“You didn’t have that before,” she said, tracing over his wedding band.

“No, I didn’t.”

“She’s lucky,” Kelly smiled ruefully. “Prolly really pretty too.”

He nodded at the second part, there was no denying Angela’s beauty. That she considered herself lucky, well that was anybody’s guess. She didn’t know where he was, he couldn’t tell her, and that’s just how they operated.

“We have a little boy too.”

“You do? So _that’s_ why you’re so good at the Dad stuff.” She sniffled. “You should be home with them, not here with me.”

“They’re out of town for the weekend,” he lied.

Holding her was nice. First time he felt relaxed all night. He wasn’t even sorry. Kelly let out a soft mew, cuddling up against his shoulder. He felt the full weight of her body as it relaxed itself and she yawned again. And it was then that Jimmy realized how quiet it was. The party, the band, the booze- it was all still there below them yet they seemed a world away. He sighed deeply before closing his eyes and resting his head atop hers.

…

Jimmy snapped to attention, heart racing, hand automatically going to his holster. Seconds fractured as he struggled to recall his whereabouts, but a scream was a scream of that he was certain.

A shaking Kelly was balled up a few feet away, tears and mascara smudging down her cheeks.

“Kel?” he asked softly. “You okay?”

“This happens a lot,” she explained as she caught her breath. “Bad dreams…”

And Jimmy could feel what was left of his heart break. Slowly he stood, his bad leg throbbing from the hard floorboards as he went to her. With care he knelt down in front of her, arms wide, Kelly wasting no time taking refuge. He rocked and pet her, saying nothing because- as he knew all too well- there was nothing he _could_ say. How many times had his Angela been desperate for answers all the while failing to understand that he had none to give?

“Why?” she asked, pushing herself away suddenly. “Why are you so nice to me, huh?”

“Because–”

“–I don’t deserve it!”

Jimmy thought back to the first time they met. While she obviously tried to change her looks she was still the same lost little girl on the inside. Stuck in that hellhole she once called home the same way he was stuck Over There.

“You deserve everything, Kel.”

“You don’t understand,” she frowned as she shook her head.

“So tell me,” he said puffing on the cigarette he’d just lit. He offered her one as well, to which she nodded. He used the end of his to light it, Kelly inhaling then expertly blowing the smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Or don’t- that’s okay too.”

She took another puff, considering her options and looking down at the floor.

“Promise…that you won’t be mad. Or think me ungrateful.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Kel.”

“ _Promise_ ,” she stressed again.

“I promise,” he assured her, placing a hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

She took a long drag, fiddling with the beading of her dress, eyes staring vacantly across the room.

“I’m not even sure where to start,” she shrugged in a haggard tone.

“Your aunt and uncle– they’re good to you?”

Kelly flicked her ash on the floor and nodded.

“And I’m guessing they don’t know where you are right now.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge me!”

“I’m not, Kel. Just stating the obvious.”

She arched her brows, angling away from him so her face was out of view.

“They’re wonderful. Even want to adopt me,” she began. “ _That’s_ the problem. Maura says its ideal–”

“–Maura?”

“My maid,” she explained.

“Oh.”

“I know, I’m still getting used to the idea of it myself. She’s not even that much older than me.”

Nearly finished with her cigarette, she rose in search of an ashtray. Her eyes caught sight of one by the windows and she sashayed over to it. Then she glanced over her shoulder meaningfully, hooded lids beckoning him to join her.

It took everything in him not to grimace as he stood. He knew the courage she’d mustered to let him in, but she was still fragile and he didn’t want her to misinterpret the look. He limped over slowly, stopping behind her and wrapping his strong arms around her waist. She pressed herself against him, sighing heavily- the weight of the world resting firmly on her tiny shoulders.

Babette was right- there was a breathtaking view of the beach from here. The piers on the boards had long shut down for the night, the only sound being the swoosh of the surf and the beating of their hearts.

“My uncle is a doctor by _choice_ , you see. The family has some iron mines in the southwestern part of the state. Pennsylvania, that is. Long story short, there’s no heir. So, if they adopt me, well that makes me…an heiress.”

She swallowed, lips pursed, collecting her thoughts.

“I’ve been privately tutored in everything from diction to art history. I’m learning piano. And taken to the ballet and to tea. The paperwork should be finalized by the end of the month. _Poor me, right_? I’m to debut at the end of the year. We’re looking at schools too, of course. Welsley, Radcliffe, Bryn Mawr…the mixers will allow plenty of opportunities to find a suitable match.”

And then she rounded, looking up at him with the same sly grin she wore under that pier the night they met.

“I’m a fraud, Jimmy,” she shrugged. “We both know I can’t wear white on my wedding day.”

“That’s not your fault.”

She bit her lip; wanting, _needing_ so badly to believe him.

“I don’t fit in anywhere,” she gulped. “My new ‘friends’…they won’t admit me to their inner circle. Not that I _want_ be in it- because, honestly, they’re the most superficial people on the planet. But it would be nice to be included, ya know? And my old friends, from here,” she nodded at the direction of the boardwalk, “they think I’m a snob. I can’t win! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in the middle of a crowded room and still feel completely alone? To look in the mirror and not recognize the person looking back?”

“Yes,” he sighed solemnly. “Yeah, I do.”

He’d finally said it aloud, the crushing pressure of his own responsibilities lifting if only for the moment.

Kelly looked relieved too, tilting her head in acknowledgment. “Really?”

He nodded, palming the nape of her neck.

“So what do I do, Jimmy?”

“Nothing you don’t feel comfortable with,” he started, recalling that fateful meeting at his father’s house; fucking Eli again calling his bluff.

Jimmy looked down at her hungrily, caressing her cheek and drawing her chin up, wanting nothing more than to kiss her hard on the mouth; help her forget the world for a little while.

“Yes,” she panted; her eyes wide, heart racing as she closed them in anticipation.

But he couldn’t go through with it. Taking advantage of her vulnerable state would only make him too much his father’s son and he abruptly pulled away.

“God dammit!” He pounded the wall, Kelly scurrying a few feet back in horror.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” she exclaimed.

“It’s not you,” he apologized, already hating himself. “I swear, Kel. It’s not.”

“You’re wife,” she whispered, eyes welling up in shame.

Letting her believe that was easier than the truth so he said nothing.

“I should go,” she stammered, blinking back tears. Hastily she returned to the coffee table, grabbing her belongings, and starting for the elevator.

“You don’t have to,” he pleaded. “It’s late.”

“I’ve already taken up too much of your time,” she replied, her voice cracking.

“Lemme…getcha a ride,” he offered, thinking Richard must’ve returned to his apartment by now. “Or at least walk you.” Leg or no leg that was the least he owed her.

“We’re summering at the Ritz,” she called over her shoulder. “It’s just a few blocks.”

Kelly hit the elevator call button, dabbing her eyes with one of her gloves. She drew a deep breath before slowly turning to face him.

He couldn’t escape those deep blue orbs- glassy, tired, yet never more beautiful they bore into him. She held her stare as she waited for the lift, pupils darting furiously from side to side in a desperate attempt to memorize his face. It physically pained him and he swallowed hard.

“You’re not alone, Kel.”

The closest thing to those other three words and he meant it just the same.

“I know,” she smiled back through her tears.

The elevator arrived and she got in, but not before holding the doors open to steal one last meaningful glance across at him.

“I’ll be okay, Jimmy,” she assured him.

He nodded, releasing the stray back into the wild; praying to any deity that would listen to watch over her. The elevator finally closed, leaving him alone for the first time since yesterday.

Again he’d got what he wanted, only to realize that it wasn’t what he wanted at all.

He sprinted through the room, white hot pain rushing to his knee but he ignored it. It wasn’t too late. He could catch up with her on the boardwalk. Maybe even before she left the building.

He cursed the elevator, pressing the button again. “C'mon, c'mon!” he muttered under his breath.

He could hear it creaking, subconsciously leaning closer on the doors. But he wasn’t prepared when they actually opened, plunging him forward; his fall broken by soft supple breasts. Jimmy looked up anxiously only to be crestfallen at discovering it was only Babette.

“Nice to see you too,” she grinned wryly.

Babette detached herself and strode into the office. It wasn’t long before she spied the mess of a table.

“Rough night?”

“I was gonna clean it up” he said stupidly, smoothing out his clothes.

“Nah, don’t worry 'bout it,” she shrugged as she lit a cigarette, offering him one in turn. “Not the first time, won’t be the last.”

Kelly was long gone by now and he’d never loathed himself more. He took the smoke from Babette, shuffling over to her wet bar. With a shaky hand he grabbed the Canadian Club, taking a long pull right from the bottle. Anything to quell the ache; all the better still if it took the edge off his leg too.

Cigarette balanced between his lips, he stacked two glasses in one hand, whiskey in the other as he limped to where she was standing. Ever the hostess, Babette wasted no time in pouring their shots, giving him a generous amount.

“So what are we toasting?” she asked, flashing the same smile she’d worn for Nucky only the week before. “Your big night?”

But Jimmy’s eyes had grown dark. What was there to celebrate? Lost youth. Lost trust. Lost innocence. He took a drag, and then another. _What was the fucking point_? Lost faith. Lost hope. Lost love.

It being nearly dawn now, she raised her glass, prompting him.

“Well, kid?”

“To the lost,” he mumbled mechanically.

“To the lost, then.”

Jimmy’s memory of the remainder of the night is foggy at best. He awoke on the chaise to the sound of the maid quietly attempting to clear the coffee table.

“Sorry, Sir,” the girl muttered, her brogue thick. She reached into her pocket. “There’s a message for you, too.”

Jimmy eyed the chicken scratched paper, making a mental note to get back to Richard after he’d had some coffee as he crumpled it into his pocket.

“What time is it?” he grimaced, his body well used to feeling the full throws of a hangover; eyes still adjusting to the light and he squeezed them closed again.

“Nearly a quarter-past eleven. I’m also to tell you that you can stay as long as you wish,” the Irish girl added on her way out.

He gave a nod of acknowledgment, pushing himself off the chaise and fishing in his pockets- nothing quite like the taste of that first morning cigarette. He padded over to the windows, to the spot they’d stood at only hours before, but the view wasn’t nearly as impressive. He pouted, gray smoke clouding over him as he glanced at the sign for the Ritz Carlton.

It was lonely at the top. Nowhere to go from there but down.


	3. 3

It was dusk when Jimmy pulled up to the house. He hadn’t been there since it happened, Gillian practically imprisoning him at his father’s after his shenanigans in Princeton. She _claimed_ it was for Tommy’s sake, but they both knew otherwise. While he lacked the gumption for suicide, he couldn’t be left to his own devices. She’d never mothered him more in his entire life; hovering relentlessly- never a moment’s peace. It was torturous.

Then came the funeral itself, things going from bad to horribly worse. Spewing a steady flow in angry Italian, Angela’s aunt slapped him hard across the cheek. She spat on his feet, refusing him allowance to the church.

His mother was wild; getting in her face. Called his wife- _his wife_ \- a cheat and a whore. Said she’d never been good enough for Jimmy.

Straining to maintain a sense of decorum, Mr. Ianotti urged them to go- begging to let his niece at least be buried with the dignity she hadn’t been given in life. And Jimmy couldn’t argue with that. He wrangled Gillian away, carrying her kicking and screaming back to the car, popping his stitches in the process.

She lectured him all the way back to the mansion- not that he actually heard a word of it. They no sooner arrived and he yanked her out of the passenger seat, dragging her up the stone stairwell into the house. He threw a wad of cash at a concerned Richard, shaking his head solemnly by way of apology for the trouble that would surely follow before turning again for the door. Out he stormed, stopping only to slash the tires on his mother’s Packard in lieu of slashing his own wrists. That would buy him a little time anyway. He lit a smoke, one arm out the window as he tore down the driveway.

The house was eerily still when he arrived. No gulls calling, nor ocean breeze wafting through the grass in the dunes. He shut the kitchen door behind him, its usual creak echoing through the emptiness triggering his fight or flight and he bit his lip hard; the tang of mercury on his tongue not nearly punishment enough.

His shoulder and leg were killing him though, Gillian’s fury forcing him to move in ways his battered body couldn’t handle and it was beginning to catch up with him. He lurched his way to the dining room, trying to ignore the stench of bleach permeating the halls.

He grabbed a few bottles from the liquor cabinet. Lining them up on the table, he couldn’t help but think of the ring toss game on the Midway. Oh how he’d loved playing it as a child- when life’s joys were simple; such a stark contrast to where he was now. He slid an ashtray to the right of his seat and plopped down, the hard wood pulverizing his thigh. The pain radiated through him, pulsing both down to his knee and across his lower back. He cocked his head back smirking- loins aching while his twisted mind yearned for more.

It was around this time that he was struck by the thought that perhaps if he drank enough he just might drink himself to death. And that’s exactly what he did.

That was yesterday.

…

In his raw grief, Jimmy never bothered to change out of his mourning suit. Didn’t even kick his shoes off; the three layers of clothing amid the relentless August heat cloaking him in sweat. It poured down his body, saturating his dressings; a breeding ground for bacteria. Meanwhile, the gash on his back was split wide on the seams, oozing out the bandages, seeping up all the way through to his jacket. The resulting fever took him on a high rivaling the smack Charlie’d given him- utterly delirious, his brain ripping itself apart.

It should’ve been him they’d laid to rest. Weighed down at the truth of it and further shattered by years of Gillian and Nucky’s collective abuse, Jimmy was forced to reconcile with his conscience. He pondered the War; all the horrible things he’d done since. How poetic it was that, upon coming home, he’d managed to ensnare himself in more twisted barbwire than that German soldier- that poor bastard from the Argonne forest. He fondly remembered Pearl; the first glimmer of hope for him and how that relationship had tragically ended…another innocent victim of his criminal enterprises.

All of it blurred together, viciously assailing him as he lay passed out on the table. Visions of his opponent still struggling and begging for his mama would give way to those of Gillian on the battlefield; Atremis herself aggressively kissing the man…forcing Jimmy to watch them as she whispered that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. He would get a brief reprieve and the nightmare would start over again, this time with the sounds of Liam’s cackle mixed Pearl’s screams in the background. Pearl would look at him sweetly and tell him how someone needed to take care of him, but she could never finish her sentence without her face melting into Angela’s- his late wife reminding him that he was a grown man with a child of his own. Daddy…the word would echo in Tommy’s voice while Jimmy saw a young version of himself look fretfully between Nucky and the Commodore. The child held a toy soldier which came to life and, all at once, he was back in a trench again- his bayonet fixed and ready to go over the top.

The scenes continued on a loop until he finally surrendered. He was so tired of fighting. He just…couldn't…do it…anymore. This time the wall was higher with a mysterious glow above it. Defeated, he resolved that this was the last ladder he would ever climb and a strange peace befell him. Up…up…up he went towards the light, the faces of the lost swirling furiously around him in the mist. They were all there: men from his company; gerries; Sheridan and his men; the D'Lessio’s; Parkhurst; his father. The cries of the damned rose to a deafening pitch, beckoning him to join them in thick chorus.

Yet one voice, soft and nurturing, stuck out. He stopped climbing to listen closer.

 _Jimmy…Jimmy..._.

It couldn’t have been hers- they weren’t going to the same place. Still, he heard it again- thought he felt a hand against his cheek. It was so real. There was a bright white flash. Then, suddenly, he was awake again, eyelids slowly peeling open to reveal a hazy shadow next to his chair.

Sawdust mouth, splitting headache, he struggled to focus. He tried to lift his head to gain a better perspective, but was too weak to do so, moaning in frustration.

“Shhhhh,” she whispered, sweeping her fingertips across his forehead, gently thumbing his aching temples.

Bewildered, he did as he was told, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“Drink,” she instructed, lifting a glass to his chapped lips; tilting it ever so slightly that he got just the right amount of water.

Jimmy opened his eyes again, his ashen face changing as the relief washed over him.

“Kel?” he murmured, feebly reaching out to her.

“I’m here,” she said, taking his hand in hers, tenderly kissing it. “I thought–”

Kelly broke off weeping, looked like she had been for a while too. She turned her eyes to the ceiling, biting her lip while she searched for her words. She leaned in closer, cupping his clammy cheek.

“I thought you were dead,” she cried. Gingerly she traced his back, careful to avoid the thick eggplant stain where he’d bled through, and gulped. “Who did this to you?”

His breath hitched, he tried to speak, flinching at the pain that shot through his back.

“Can you stand?”

“I’ll try,” he managed.

With care they made their way down the hall, Jimmy directing her to the spare bedroom Richard sometimes used. Kelly helped him sit supine on the side of the bed, giving him a pillow to hug against his stomach meanwhile positioning herself behind him as she peeled off his layers of clothing. Cautiously she removed the bandages themselves, surveying the gaping wound; yellow pus pooling amid what remained of his stitches. Fever raging, Jimmy trembled at the air against his skin.

“It’s not so bad,” she lied, eyes welling up.

Lips quivering, she rose from her perch, bending down to face him.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised.

He gripped her hand. “Don’t go,” he begged.

Despite their walk being short, he still hadn’t quite caught his breath, panting hard- every moment agony. He looked so fragile that she couldn’t take it anymore. Climbing next to him on the right, she cradled him against her bosom. Hot tears were flowing freely now, as she feared he’d slip back out of consciousness.

“I won’t leave you. _I can’t_ – not like this,” she assured him. She thumbed over his knuckles and threw a quick glance at the roadster convertible in the driveway. “I need to use your phone. I’m just going to ask Maura to fetch me a few things.”

Chief among them her uncle’s medical bag, though she kept that part to herself.

Jimmy cleared his throat.

“Down the hall. To the left. Of the kitchen.”

Kelly nodded, turning for the door.

He pouted as she faded out of view, already craving her touch; needing it as much as he needed oxygen. The walls closed in on him. With baited breath he looked helplessly at the door, seconds spreading on for what felt like hours. And finally, _finally_ , she returned to him, settling softly down, draping a blanket over his bare back, and wrapping her arms around him to keep it closed.

“We rented a house not far from here- on account of the workers’ strike,” she said. “Shouldn’t take her very long.”

He shivered under the blanket. Freezing, he felt the cold right down to his bones and leaned into her, wearily resting his heavy head on her shoulder.

“How’d you know?” he croaked.

“The papers,” she said. “I thought of coming sooner. I didn’t want to intrude but…I couldn’t stay away. Oh Jimmy, I’m sorry! _I’m so sorry_.”

Through bloodshot eyes he gazed up at her, a meager yet earnest attempt to show his appreciation. His breathing staggered, it was growing harder for him to keep his eyes open; pain and sheer exhaustion taking their toll. All the while she held him close, stroking his hair back.

He tensed up at the sound of tires on the gravel, Kelly patting him gently indicating all was safe. She pressed a kiss atop his forehead, leaving him again momentarily and returning a few minutes later carrying a bowl of water; a large black leather bag hanging in the crook of her elbow.

And she proceeded to clean him up, delicately swabbing his injuries with a warm wet cloth.

“Fuck!”

He flailed forward, arching his back against the mattress.

“That hurts, I know,” she cooed. “It’ll be over soon.”

She gave him a moment of repose, helping him right himself again. Then it was on to ointment and fresh dressings, her soft hands pulling them taunt. She placed her bowl on the opposing side table before proceeding to tuck him in.

After fluffing the pillows, she laid him on his right side; gauzy cotton sheets enveloping him, all swaddled up. She opened the windows, cool sea breeze and rush of the surf finally lulling him off to sleep.

He drifted in and out for hours, Kelly nursing him diligently. Never left his side, cool rags carefully laid across his forehead and collarbone, fresh water sponged into his parched mouth. The fever finally broke in the middle of the night, waking him in the process.

Lucid for the first time in days, he took in his surroundings. Kelly dozed in her chair, head lolling forward, her ebony locks gleaming in the moonlight, delicate hand still holding his. And Jimmy couldn’t help himself, fingering at the few loose tendrils that framed her face.

“Jimmy?” she gasped, eyes all full of concern. “Do you need something?”

“Just you.”

She looked at him quizzically, unsure if she heard him correctly, pressing her hand to his cheeks and forehead.

“You’re cool,” she breathed wistfully, grateful to find he wasn’t hallucinating.

“No thanks to you.”

He pulled the covers back to give her some room. But his rejection of her at Babette’s loomed over them, casting a long shadow. He felt it too, hating himself for causing her any more sorrow after all she’d been through.

“That night at the club,” he said, “I never meant to lead you on. We both had too much to drink. The truth is…I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could take it back–”

Having long forgiven him, she touched her index finger to his lips, moving in beside him. His left side still mostly immobilized, Jimmy carefully sat up, softly kissing her neck. He caressed her face, threading his hands in her hair as he drew her nearer, his good arm wrapped around her so that they were now facing each other. Their eyes locked, his hand snaked its way down her torso and Kelly froze, hips jerking mechanically away, her body bracing itself for the worst.

Jimmy was quick to stop himself. She bit her lip by way of apology, shamefully tried to look away from him but he’d already brought his hand back up; cupping her cheeks, sick at the thought she’d been defiled.

He was glad he killed her stepfather. Would do it again too in a heartbeat.

“We won’t go any further,” he promised.

Her eyes shown with gratitude.

“You don’t think I’m some sort of freak?”

He tenderly kissed her forehead, pulling her close and laying her head against his chest.

“No,” he breathed.

Holding her was more than enough for him; her soft, creamy skin against his, breathing in the scent of her hair. He needed nothing else. They stayed like that for some time in quiet reflection interrupted only when the throbbing in his back returned. He shifted, letting her go and stretching his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“Little sore is all,” he said, scooping her up again. “You handled yourself well earlier. You were so calm.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean it, Kel. I spent some time in the hospital during the War. There’s grown men who would’ve been squeamish.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “you grow up with a mother like mine, you learn your way around the medicine cabinet pretty quick.”

“Been a helluva year for both of us, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I read the papers too.”

Kelly looked up at him astonishment. There hadn’t been an obituary. An article, yes, but her uncle’s lawyer requested the press not mention any kin.

“It was you,” she whispered. “You did that for… _for me_?”

Jimmy didn’t deny it. Only looked back at her knowingly, a few stray hairs falling forward over his eye.

“I should’ve felt bad about it,” she confessed. “But…I didn’t. It was the first time…the first time I felt _safe_. Knew for certain that they couldn’t hurt me.”

She gulped, her heart pounding at the recollection and Jimmy instinctively held her tighter.

“When I first got to my aunt’s I was always kinda looking over my shoulder, you know? Waiting for them. Never knowing when or where they’d turn up…just that they eventually _would_. That…they’d never let me go. Sometimes, I’d go into my room and expect to see one of them pop out from behind the armoire. Or, from under my bed. But…after that…” she cocked her chin, eyeing him resolutely, “After that I was _free_.”

Her breath quickened, she locked her wrists around his neck, kissing him with every fiber of her being. She mounted him, letting go of any lingering inhibitions and giving herself to him completely. To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides. It flowed through them, piecing together their collective broken parts to reveal a beautiful mosaic.


	4. 4

Jimmy awoke alone the following morning, the sheets beside him cold yet still smelling of her rose water perfume. He sat up in a panic, hoping she hadn’t left. He surveyed the room, heart beating furiously. But he was still weak, quickly overcome with dizziness, heavy head falling back against the pillow. He glanced out the window, relieved only at the sight of her car still in the driveway.

“You’re up,” she chirped from the doorway, small tray in her hands.

“What’s all this?” he smiled, never happier to see her.

“Maura,” she explained, setting the tray on top of the dresser and handing him a tea biscuit. “She knows they’re my favorite, packed a tin as a surprise in with my clothes. Besides, you have to keep your strength up.”

She proceeded in pouring them both coffee, steam wafting from the mug she placed on the side table.

“Careful- it’s still a little hot.”

“Thank you.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, enjoying her own biscuit as she sat down beside him. Jimmy gave a nod toward the window.

“That a Duesy?”

Her tone deadpan, she raised an eyebrow. “No proper seventeenth birthday would be complete without one.”

“It’s a beaut.”

“It’s not so bad,” she laughed, tossing her hand aside as if it were nothing.

But it was no ordinary piece of machinery. Jimmy read about cars like that while he’d been in the hospital. Read about anything he could get his hands on, though a few of the fellas in his ward were race enthusiasts so there was always an abundance of advertisements and sporting magazines.

While the same could be said of most Duesenbergs, this one was truly a gem. She had a sleek maroon body, flanked with silver floorboards. Thick white walled tires complimented by intricately spoked chrome hubcaps with a set of extra tires tied up front, just behind the wheel well. Her interior featured the epitome of luxury; two tufted white leather seats begging to be driven. But above all else, she was built for speed.

She let out a wistful sigh. “I like the way the wind feels against my face.”

“Yeah, well– just don’t go too fast.”

“Yes Father,” she teased, playfully bumping against his good shoulder.

“Would ya stop with that?”

Kelly laughed, shaking her head at the grin that spread across his face. “No. Not when you look like that.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her knees pulled up to her chest, hair flowing past her shoulders, easy smile. God, she looked so innocent. Had her whole life ahead of her.

He took a sip of coffee. “So, are things…going any better for you?”

Kelly nodded, mouth full of biscuit before answering him further.

“I don’t sneak out anymore.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows.

“This doesn’t count! Besides, they sailed down to Cape May. Won’t be back ‘til the weekend. Then it’s back to Philadelphia for a few days.” She cupped her hands around her mug, tone growing serious now. “The adoption gets finalized next week.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“I am, actually. It just…almost doesn’t seem real, you know? Like its someone else’s life I’m watching at the pictures, not my own. Does that sound strange?”

“Not to me.”

“That’s 'cause you understand me. Always have.” She sipped her drink. “Part of me still can’t get used to the idea…that…they might really love me.”

“How could they not?”

She blushed earnestly.

“You know, after we last saw each other, I, um, did a lot of thinking. I’m not proud of the way I acted. There I was, trying so hard to be someone I wasn’t that I lost sight of who I really am.”

He stroked the length of her hair, curling the ends between his thumb and index finger. “And who’s that?”

“A survivor.”

“You are,” he agreed. “But you’re so much more than that too. Strong. Fearless. You’re incredible. And, whatever you end up doing, Kel, that’s gonna be incredible too.”

“I thought about that too- what I’m going to do next year. Had a long talk with my aunt and uncle about it.”

“That’s good,” he said. “You being able to open up to them.”

She let out a chuckle. “Oh, I wrote a whole script out beforehand, practiced with poor Maura 'til it sounded just right.”

“And?” He asked, helping himself to another biscuit.

“Their hearts were in the right place. Turns out they had no idea I was so conflicted. Just wanted to expose me to, well, pretty much anything and everything to try to make up for those lost years.”

She rose to put her empty mug on the tray, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Said I don’t have to marry anyone if I don’t want to. Even agreed to let me travel a little before university.”

“So happily ever after, huh?”

Coming from him she actually believed it. She beamed, childlike smile spreading across her cheeks as she returned to the bed.

“Yeah…Yeah I guess so,” she nodded. “Because of you, Jimmy.”

She stood before him, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes full of wonder.

“You took a chance on a lonely girl under the boardwalk. You could’ve called the Sheriff. Sent me back home. But you didn’t. My Ma and Tony. Babette’s… You’ve _always_ looked out for me. I am where I am now because of you.”

Jimmy didn’t know what to say. He watched in awe at the change in her as the joy took hold. Seeing a future for herself where she hadn’t before. Realizing it would actually happen. Inviting it in with a full heart.

She exuded hope; pure and powerfully intoxicating, Jimmy found himself starting to believe again too. Of all his mistakes, maybe- just maybe- he’d done one thing right after all.

He recalled the first time he ever saw her. How he’d gone to the beach that night to escape his troubles only to find a stranger’s to be the distraction he didn’t know he needed. And then there was his botched coronation. Somehow, unbeknownst to her, she was always there when he was at his worst, saving him from himself. Meyer would call it kismet- something he read about but never really bought into. But perhaps his partner was right.

Hope, he decided, was the sweetest drug of all. One he wished he’d tried sooner.

His spirit rallied. He was down but not out. Not yet. The trial wasn’t until next week- enough time for him to make things right with Nucky. And he began to plan- his plan this time, no one else’s.

Plus, he still had Tommy. And with him, the opportunity to be the kind of father that he’d always wanted for himself.

But his body was quick to remind his heart that it still had healing of its own to do. He tried his best to stifle a yawn, wincing at the tenderness along his ribcage.

She sat down beside him, caressing his cheek. “You should rest.”

“You’re prolly right.” He grimaced, shifting his position slowly to his right, nesting down against the pillow. “You know I meant what I said before. About you being quick on your feet.”

“Well,” she said wryly, “I seem to recall you cleaning me up a few times so I guess we’re even. Should probably check those dressings though when you get up. For now,” she pulled the covers over him, “just try to get some sleep.”

And sleep he did. Bone tired, it didn’t take long for him to go out. His body glad for the much needed reprieve, he was out for hours. No nightmares, no dreams at all. Just a deep, restorative slumber.

It was well into the afternoon when he finally woke up. And she beside him, bathed in the glow of sunshine streaming through the shutters. A shining beacon of light in an otherwise midnight life. Constant and true, steering him through the storm after storm, away from the shoals.

Kelly lay on her back, hair splayed all around her, lips turned up slightly almost as if she were smiling. He smiled too, recalling the fairytales his mother had read him as a child- she was everything a fair maiden should be and more. He kissed her lashes, then her velvety lips. As she began to stir, he rolled over onto his belly and lay his head against her heart. She pulled him close, running her fingers through his hair- all the while neither uttering a single word. It was those quiet moments between them that said the most; time itself standing still amid their little blanket cocoon. If only they could stay there forever.

But it was not to be, phone ringing down the hall reminding them that they were _not_ , in fact, the only two people in the world.

“It rang a few times earlier,” she advised. “Felt funny answering…”

He knew who it was, mentally preparing for the shrill in his mother’s voice. “S'okay. I got it,” he said getting out of bed.

Gillian laid into him as expected. She even threatened to Tommy on. Yet somehow, it didn’t matter anymore. There was nothing she, nor anyone else could say or do that was worse than anything he’d already experienced. In reality, it only served to fuel the resolve within him.

Kelly changed his bandages when he returned to the room, cleaning him all up. But the smell of the ointment held too many memories for him- his muscles refusing to relax.

“Come to my debut,” she purred in his ear in an effort to distract him. “Top floor of the Bellevue Stratford, the Saturday between Christmas and New Year’s.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” He offered a halfhearted grin, shaking his right foot slightly. “Though I should warn you, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Who said anything about dancing?” she smiled coyly, massaging his neck and good shoulder.

“Well, then. You got yourself a date.”

It was enough motivation to pull him through until she finished. His swelling had gone down, fever remained stabilized. Though it would still be awhile before he fully recovered, he was out of the woods.

The bittersweetness of it not lost on him, Jimmy retreated to the bathroom to shave. He didn’t feel great, but it was good to be up out of bed. He looked in the mirror, saw the whites of his eyes for the first time in ages, and sighed contentedly to himself. He didn’t hate the person looking back at him. He had a purpose after all, she was waiting in the next room. Their separation would be difficult, but temporary, and he’d spend the rest of their lives making it up to her.

But first he had to make sure she was safe. A car like that, at the house for two…three days; she was an easy mark. He would follow her home, make sure there wasn’t a tail, station Richard outside for a few days- at least until her uncle returned. In the meantime he’d find Manny, do what he needed to do. It would all work out.

Kelly was brushing her hair when he returned to the room, her cherry lips smiling in the mirror at the sight of him all fresh and clean.

He sat on the side of the bed, motioning for her to join him, resting his hand on the small of her back as she sat down.

“You know what kind of business I’m in?”

“I do.”

Jimmy’s tone was even, matter-of-fact. “My wife is dead because of me.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he wouldn’t let her.

“No, it’s true. I thought I could keep my work and family separate. Kept her in the dark about a lot and that was wrong. But I’m done, Kel, I’m gettin’ out.”

The Feds offered him a job once, he could get them to do it again. Take the heat off Nucky, put it where it belonged- New York and Philly.

“Listen,” he said, “There’s some things I gotta take care of. I won’t be able to contact you for a while.”

“Sounds like goodbye.”

“It’s for your own good,” he said reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket. “So’s this.”

He handed her the black leather sheath that housed his trench knife.

Kelly pulled it out, her blue eyes flashing. She wondered if this was what he’d used it to kill Tony, but found she already knew the answer. Breathless, she looked back up at him.

“I hope you never have to use it,” he said, lacing her fingers through each of the holes on its shaft. “But if you do, you hold it like this.”

She tightened her grip, simultaneously pushing it upward and twisting it sideways in one fell swoop until the blade nearly touched his jugular. “Like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, grabbing the nape of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

 

…

 

Jimmy loaded her bag into the passenger seat of the car, shuffling around to her side to open the door for her.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Darmody,” she grinned. “Aren’t you the gentleman?”

He felt his own lips curl up; she looked so damn cute when she was flirting. She knew it too, turning the key to the ignition, eyes sparkling as all eight cylinders fired.

“Purrs like a kitten.”

“Like you,” he kissed the top of her head as he shut the door, giving her curls a tousle; his fingers lingering at what would be their last touch for a while. “I’ll be right behind. I won’t let anything happen to you, Kel,” he promised.

“You never have.”

She made the turn out of the horseshoe drive, Jimmy bringing up the rear. Not surprisingly, she had a bit of a lead foot, but he was able to keep up. They sped along the coastal route; parallel with the sea. Clear blue skies above them, hardly any traffic.

The road curved off to the right ahead, away from the houses and into the bustling little town of Margate. Shops lined the main street, intersections at nearly every corner- including the road they were traveling.

The light ahead of them changed from green to yellow and she hit the accelerator, looking over her shoulder at him with a casual smile as she sped through it.

All he heard next was the sound of screeching tires, and the whole world seemed to move a little bit slower.

“No!”

He reached out over his steering wheel, letting out a primal scream as if there were anything he could do to stop it.

But it was too late. A box trunk carrying produce slammed into her passenger side, pushing the little coupe across the road and right into a telephone pole.

Jimmy left his car in the middle of the street, bolting toward the billowing black smoke as passers-by were running away. A stout woman on the corner was howling- the trunk driver’s dead body laying at her feet.

His eyes did a quick sweep of the area. Finding Kelly pinned amongst the twisted metal, he rushed to her aide. Miraculously, she was still alive, though barely- her torso crushed between the console, the pole and what remained of the driver’s side door. He knelt down beside her, cradling her head in his arms.

“Jimmy, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, blood dripping from the side of her mouth as it opened. “I’ve ruined things, haven’t I?”

“No, Darlin’,” he murmured, stroking her cheek.

“I can’t…” she paused, gasping for air, “…I can’t feel…my legs.”

He wrestled the lump in his throat, trying his hardest not to cry. He had to be strong for her, forcing it down, easily recalling the monologue he’d recited dozens of times during the War.

“Shh, shhhh. Its okay, Kel. Look at me- you’re gonna be fine. Just in shock, is all. Ambulance is already on its way. We’ll getcha outta here, all fixed up 'fore you know it.”

She attempted a weak smile. “In time for our date?”

“Yeah. Sure,” he nodded.

Just then they heard a sickening crack, the top of the telephone pole splitting, careening backward toward the crowd and pulling its already taunt wires with it. The chaos around them reached a fever pitch as the sparks flew.

“It’s gonna blow!” called the green grocer, ducking his head as he helped a woman with a baby into his shop.

Kelly’s eyes grew wide as the fear crept in.

“You shut that fuckin’ hole in your face or I’ll shut it for you!” Jimmy yelled, before returning his attention to her. “Don’t listen to him,” he whispered.

She gulped. Using what little remained of her strength, she craned her neck toward her shoulder, eyes directing him to her back. One hand supporting her head, Jimmy slid his other down the back of her dress, grasping the familiar shape of his blade. He removed the sheath, thinking it must’ve been poking into her.

“Better?” He asked.

Her chest slowly rose and fell as she placed her hand atop his, giving it a squeeze. “Make it quick,” she urged.

His eyes darted from the knife, to her, then back again. Of all the times he’d used it, Jimmy didn’t think he could go through with it, pressure mounting all over his face.

“No,” he mouthed, brow deeply furrowed, shaking his head sideways.

“ _Please?_ ”

“Aw, Kel–” he broke down, choking back sobs.

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” she said softly, holding his face as she wiped his tears away with her thumbs. Her breathing shallow, she took her time, determined to get the words out while she still had the chance.

“We’ll see…each other…again. Look to the…horizon…where the blue…meets the blue. We’ll meet there someday. I’ll wait…I promise. I–”

She gagged, more blood slowly trickling out of her nostrils, congealing in her esophagus. Kelly looked him straight in the eyes, imploring him for mercy, drawing the deepest breath she could muster.

“–I love…” she whispered, her own tears streaming freely now, “…I love you.”

He held her face, ignoring the taste of her blood as he kissed her one last time on the mouth.

“I love you too.”

She gave him a nod; ready whenever he was.

With that he plunged the knife through her heart, twisting it hard to ensure a swift end to her misery. Kelly heaved her last; a guttural groan escaping as her body went limp in his arms. He gently closed her eyes with his fingertips, caressing her cheek, weeping uncontrollably as he held what he could of her corpse.

Meanwhile, one of the wires was inches from reaching the leaking fuel line. But Jimmy was frozen in place, neither able nor willing to leave her. Two firefighters grabbed him at the elbows, dragging him from the wreckage just as it exploded- the fireball reportedly seen for miles up and down the coast.

He stood on the corner for hours afterward, day turning to night as he tried to come to grips with it all. A passing sheriff’s deputy offered him a ride home but he declined, remembering he had a car of his own around there somewhere.

He was still dazed by the time he returned to the mansion. Disheveled and disoriented, he paused in the foyer as if seeing it for the first time, wreaking of smoke and gasoline; traces of her blood splattered all over his suit.

“It’s about time!” his mother’s voice called through the corridor.

He stumbled into the parlor, where she was reading.

Gillian was never one to mince words and this was no exception. “Jesus, Jimmy!” she exclaimed at the sight of him.

His mouth moved, but it sounded like someone else’s voice. “Bad accident along Route 9. Both drivers dead.”

“People these days. They really should be more careful.” She pursed her lips, rolling her eyes disapprovingly before returning to her magazine. “At least you’re back now. Tommy’s in his room, Dear. Go clean yourself up, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Tomorrow,” he said.

Gone before she could argue with him, he popped his head into the room Richard was using when he reached the top of the stairs; the briefest nod of acknowledgment and he was alone again in his own room.

Jimmy locked the door behind him, sliding down to the floor and burying his head in hands. He wailed on until his throat was sore, emitting hiccup-like sobs thereafter.

They thought it was because of Angela, of course, and they were partially right. Prince James- born with the Midas Touch of Death. He could wash his hands a thousand times but they’d still have blood on them.

Any lingering aspirations he had for the future died with Kelly in the street that day. So, starting the following morning, he went about the business of settling his affairs. Except one thing after another went horribly awry; with only a brief moment of comfort the afternoon he’d taken his son horseback riding.

It was a cloudless day, hot sun gleaming off the water as he stared solemnly out at the sea, accepting his fate. _Soon, Sweetheart_ , his heart whispered; Adam’s apple bobbing as he slowly lit a cigarette. A twinkling along the waterline told him that she understood.

Death would, indeed, come for him later that same week. His friend had been right all along, Nucky would never forgive him. Some things, Jimmy knew all too well, only God could forgive.

Hands in his pockets, cold rain pelting against his face, he said all that he needed to say before the sting of the first bullet silenced him forever; hot pain bursting through him as he collapsed on the ground. It didn’t last long- the second shot was quick, more forbearance than he deserved.

When Jimmy opened his eyes, he was back in the trenches. Practically damned since birth, he was a fool to have expected anything else.

He stood her up. The only person he ever really loved and he’d never see her again.

“I’m sorry!”

His voice boomed into the abyss, echoing against the trench walls and rippling across No Man’s Land- a desperate plea that somehow she’d at least hear him.

He’d been here before; knew what he had to do. He made his way to one of the ladders, and bowed his head. 

“I– I haven’t done this in a long time, but…Look, I– I know where I’m headed. I’m not gonna waste your time tryin’ to convince you otherwise ‘cause, we both know I deserve it. But her? Don’t make her pay for my mistakes. _Please?_ ” he begged earnestly, the shrill of the whistle in the distance reminding him that it was time to go. “She’s all alone. Just…just take care of her, okay? ”

With that he cast his eyes upward and began his assent.

Soon he reached the top of the ladder, only to be blinded by an incandescent light. He couldn’t see anything- felt himself being pulled up and over- a force so powerful, the sheer energy of which unlike anything he’d experienced before. Yet he found he was unafraid, trusting whatever was guiding him. He drifted along- body twisting and twirling. And then, just as suddenly, it stopped him.

Gradually his sight returned; the scene before him not of the horrors of war as he’d expected but rather a ballroom. Gone were his fatigues and boots, tails and spats in their place. His bad leg moving freely, shoulder good as new.

And then he saw her, levitating atop the center of a grandiose double stairwell in all her glory. She glowed radiantly, as if she swallowed the sun itself, golden beams shooting out of her fingertips. Her gown pure as snow, raven mane swept up, those loose curls he loved so much framing her adoring face. She floated down, taking his hand and leading him to the marble floor where they danced, and danced, and danced.


End file.
